The Wrong in the Right
by SacredAir
Summary: She wouldn’t do that to him, because he would be hurt - a big, ugly gash, right down the centre of his open heart. So she would love him, but she would not destroy him. Tag to 100th episode.


**Hey everyone!**

**So, I watched the Bones 100****th**** episode last week. And for me, it was truly one of the most brilliant episodes of all time. Bones is a show that can make fans feel so many emotions all at once, and that is why it is the best. What a beautiful yet devastating ending!**

**Regarding Brennan's reaction at the end, I felt that it was extremely in character. I'm crushed that she would react like that, but I understand there were many reasons why she did. Some of them prove that she is definitely more of a 'heart' person that she gives herself credit for.**

**It was fantastic. Brilliant acting, brilliant directing, brilliant writing. BRILLIANT.**

**(end rant)**

**Okay, so this is just a little one-shot I cooked up. It's kind of a drabble. Please bear in mind that I worked on it at night, for about two hours non-stop, and basically whatever thought was in my brain spilled onto the paper. Therefore, I'm warning you all now, it could be a bit messy/confusing.**

**If any of you follow my 'Unbreak the Broken' story, I am extremely sorry for the complete lack of updates. I have had rather a lot of stuff going on since September, it's my last year of school, so I really have to push myself, and my health hasn't been too good. The computer hasn't been in good health either. Four viruses since January. Don't even get me started on the amount of money that we had to pay to fix it D:**

**However, 'Unbreak the Broken' is still very much on my mind, even though I can't promise I'll be able to update very soon.**

**Okay, so here you have it! Please feel free to PM me if you would like to discuss the 100****th**** episode.**

**Enjoy, and please review and tell me what you thought!**

She was right.

…she was right.

Ever since she was fifteen, and had created that small, solid bubble around her that had encompassed her in a world lacking evidence to prove that feelings really _did _matter, she had been safe, and she had been right.

She had loved being right. It gave her a sense of purpose. In a way, she had come to believe that she existed solely to be right. What she did was _right_. Right was what she _was_.

Then, she met Booth. Booth had made her not want to be right.

The first time, the man had appeared at her university lecture out of nowhere. Symmetrical features. Wide shoulders. Twinkly eyes that shone with smiles and promises. And he believed in fate. She didn't. Therefore, he was _wrong_.

He was wrong, but she liked him. So much, in fact, that her highly intelligent and rational brain seemed to scream at her – telling her that liking 'wrong' wasn't what she did, because it would cause trouble. There was no point in accepting something that was flawed. So she had climbed into a cab alone, the feeling of his lips on hers still fresh, leaving behind a missed moment. Yet she couldn't help but look back and wonder what could have been. He was intriguing, and that was, in her opinion, a justifiable reason for experiencing a sensation of regret when it came to leaving him behind.

And then, just like that – with a strong, resounding slap and viscous scathing words – she _hated_ him. Her brain had been correct – he was trouble, with his arrogance and pride, his forcefulness and obnoxiousness. Internally, she sneered at his messy, bared emotions. Only stupid people wore their hearts on their sleeves.

Therefore, once again, she was right. And she was alone. Yet some part of her found it impossible to forget those kind eyes – belonging to a man that had, for a while, made her begin to doubt.

Suddenly, there he is again – a year has passed but his smile is still as charming, and more importantly, he is still _wrong_. This time, they stick together, the both of them. And she doesn't know when it begins to happen, but after a while, 'wrong' begins to merge into 'right'. They bicker, and they argue, but she starts to understand him slightly. And maybe – though it's hard for her to admit it – he teaches her things that are useful, and makes her a better person. She learns that she is right – yes – but he can be too. And perhaps – sometimes – it was okay to be wrong. The man is cocky, and sometimes downright irritating, but he had many other traits. He was kind. Brave. His open heart was a vulnerability, but it was also a miracle.

It isn't long before she realises that she doesn't want – or need – to delve into science for the answers all the time. That cold, frozen bubble that has been surrounding her all these years melts away, and she begins to wish that perhaps, her heart could work like his, that she could see in herself what he sees.

The line between right and wrong blurs even more, and before long, she finds herself coming to accept that love _just is_. Because what else would one call that feeling – something that made her want to pull him towards her and hug him tight every time she saw him, and run her fingertips through his hair, and kiss his mouth. A sensation that caused something akin to a wave of safety to wash over her. That made her want to cry and laugh at the same time. And she didn't care whether it was wrong.

But tonight, she had been right. So even though he had kissed her, and had shown her what he wanted – something that she was certain she desired too – she had let him down. _Because it was wrong_. She couldn't risk losing him – not ever – because if he left, he would take all of his 'wrong' with him, and then she would be left with nothing, standing empty, hollow like an ancient skull. And he would be hurt, a big, ugly gash, right down the centre of his open heart. She wouldn't do that to him. So she would love him, but she would not destroy him.

Scientists were objective, and empirical, and these traits enabled them to be, for the most part, right. Their brains did not understand the concept of change, so consequently they did not know how to change themselves. She had been alright with this, before. Perhaps, it was because the world seemed less daunting when every single phenomenon could be explained through logic, and those that could not be rationalised were discarded. Explanations could formulate justifiable answers to painful questions; ones which she did not want to ask herself more than once.

Now she's perched on the edge of the sofa, insomnia prodding her brain for anything that could explain the empty feeling that requires her to take deep breaths to prevent herself from crying. Thirty, forty, fifty years from now, Booth would be married to somebody else, with children who weren't hers, in a beautiful house with a lush, green yard. A life that wasn't hers, because she wasn't adequate for it

And she realises then. Because the world and its _wrongness_ wasn't as scary as _that _– as seeing the man she loved move on, away from her, with someone else. She tries to think scientifically. Rational explanations have to be consistent with known facts, don't they?

_One - If he ever looked at another woman like he looked at her, her heart would break in two._

_Two - If she lost Booth, she would surely die._

Who said _known facts _had to be rational?

For once, science was wrong, and Brennan was glad. Because this time, relying on her profession was not the answer. This time, she had to rely on Booth.

_Known fact number three. Booth had never let her down. Not ever._

It's past one in the morning when her car skids to a stop outside the recognisable Liquor Store, and she sprints up the stairs to his apartment. She presses the doorbell twice, firmly, without hesitation – which is funny considering she's shaking with fear and some other emotion, her brain can't quite place it.

As the door opens, revealing _her Booth_, albeit with red rimmed eyes and dishevelled hair, clad in grey sweatpants and one of those 'Philly Flyer's' hockey t-shirts she knows he loves, her heart constricts, because he looks shrunken, and defeated. Shaken by the fact that she has caused such a brilliant man to break, her panic sets in – and suddenly all she can do is run up and crash into him, grabbing him around the waist and bursting into tears.

For one agonising second, his body stays tense, but then all at once, his arms surround her and he buries his nose in her hair, a gesture so safe and intimate that she wonders, not for the first time, what she has done to deserve the presence of such a man in her life. And to think, for a second, that she was so scared of what he meant to her that she had almost thrown him away.

'I know, I know….hey…I know…,' they rock back and forth for a little while, and her sobs begin to subside as he whispers in her ear. 'I know…shh…I'm sorry.'

But she pushes away, a movement that she knows is heart wrenchingly similar to the one she had made previously that evening, and runs her hands through her hair.

'No, Booth, _no. _Hear me out, please, because it's – I…I don't,' shaking, she stutters to a halt, the words that she had been going over in her head seemingly lost. She searches her brain frantically but cannot find them, and tears of humiliation begin to form again, one escaping the corner of her eye and streaking down her face.

Booth places a warm hand against her cheek, moving his thumb against her temple in a soothing motion that calms her slightly. His eyes aren't twinkling, but they don't shine sadly either.

'We've got all the time in the world-'

'I just love you so much!'

His eyebrows furrow, shoot upwards in an expression of shock, and then furrow again. 'What-'

'I'm not at all confused about my feelings for you. At all. I just – all the time – I want to be in your company, and hug you – and this feeling is so brilliant yet so incredibly frightening at the same time. Because I don't know how to deal with it, Booth. And I don't understand it, and if I don't make it work we will both end up hurt. And if I hurt you, Booth – I cannot allow you to let me do that.'

He's half-smiling now dark eyes lit up, and her heart is ricochets around in her chest.

'Don't look at me like that, Booth. I was wrong, and I'm glad. I am _not_ a scientist. I am a human being. And whilst occasionally I am so overwhelmed by this emotion that I feel I would unintentionally ruin our relationship,' he grabs hold of her wrists, and it is only then she realises she has been wringing her hands apprehensively. '– because I am human, I have the capacity to _learn_.'

As she pauses for breath, racking her brain for anything that had still been left unsaid, Booth takes in the sight before him. _His Bones._ Wild windswept hair clings to a face slick with tears. Huge cerulean eyes bore into his, the look they were giving him was that of a petrified child's, frightened of being rejected. Her jumper is inside out, and the slippers on her feet are soaked through from the wet ground outside. Her hands, which had been making frantic gestures moments earlier were now balled up against his chest, fistfuls of his t-shirt in both.

It hadn't occurred to him, to be honest. The fact that she was not only terrified for her, but for him as well. But now, his heart begins to roar in triumph, because he _understands_. Slowly, he reaches up and unhooks her hands from his shirt, running his fingers across her knuckles.

'Would you like me to teach you?' he asks softly, bowing his head down to hers.

She nods vigorously, and her troubled expression clears somewhat. 'Well, yes that's what I was going to ask you. Because I know from experience that you are a very good teacher, Booth. And your heart is full of love, so-'

'Full of love, huh? Are you sure? 'Cause I could have sworn it's full of blood, Bones,' he chuckles.

'Well yes, but I was trying-'

'Shh. Shhh.' He puts one finger to his lips, grinning like a mischievous smile. Because they're fixed now, him and her.

And for the first time in what seems to be centuries, she smiles back - a glowing, happy grin, and shakes her head. 'You're making fun of me, aren't you?'

'Hell yeah, Bones.' He pulled her into a hug, and turned his head to whisper in her ear. 'I love you.' Her arms squeeze his waist, and she laughs. He pulls away slightly, so that their noses are touching. 'I'm going to kiss you now.'

And that's when Brennan sees it. A moment, clearly defined – it's written in Booth's twinkly eyes, his safe embrace, his soft kiss. So when they approach that moment – the door that had finally been unlocked, and had almost been destroyed, they walk through it together, hand in hand, shutting it behind them and tossing away the key. Losing themselves in the moment that was almost missed, they revel in the knowledge that all is right with the world.

**Well, there you go :) I hope you liked it, please review and tell me your thoughts!**


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